Cropped and framed
Colour corrected and edited
Burnished and patinaed
To make a picture
That tells the story
I wish to remember
In a mind
Bent on manipulating them
To serve the present
Few
Enough left who could
Read
The irrelevant past
Now
Silly stories of
Love
Self help for plentiful
Times
Dystopian imaginings for a world of
Ease
So it was no wonder salvagers
Found
No value in printed
Words
Because he tried so hard
To place features
On their bodies
On their faces
Which he just couldn’t recollect
Over time he’d lost
The recollection of the places, too
How odd
That the one crystal clear element
In this one otherwise tortured image
Was the frame shop
Filled with photographs and paintings
Recorded for eternity
I capture a moment
In an infinity of moments
Preserved only for so long
As time will allow
Longer than memory, perhaps
A record of my existence
Ever changing
Never changing
Just like me
Shadow event
Captured in light
Held in coloured silver
On fading film
Myself
Left so much behind
In faded memories
Lost to time
Distraction
And repression
Pix to Words 